Date: Sun, 5 Sep 2004 16:20:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: Lance Kyle
Subject: Seaward Plantation war clouds 13
This story contains graphic but completely fictional
depictions of sex among men and men, and men and underage
boys and/or girls, and even nekkid women show up now and
then. If this offends you, if it is illegal for you to read
or download this, or if you are under 18, please go away.
Seaward Plantation
War clouds chapter thirteen
In popular myth, the Old Year is always depicted as an old
man, tired and worn, and the New Year as a baby. As
December of 1861 rolled over into January of 1862, the
people of Seaward Island had good reason to be reminded of
those images. In the space of about a week, all three of
the women of Seaward who were great with child--Portia,
Helen, and Athena--gave birth.
It would be inaccurate to say that peace had descended on
the island since the departure of Ezekiel Thomas, but it was
certainly true that a greater sense of security, even
normality, was gradually growing in people's minds. The
presence of the Union Navy in the area was a comfort. The
Navy was attempting a blockade of the coast, and although
its resources were stretched thin and blockade runners
seemed to move constantly in and out of Charleston Harbor,
there had been no more attempts by Confederate forces on
Seaward Island itself. Every so often a Federal warship
would stop and collect information from the people on the
island as to ship movements in and out of Charleston
observed from the cemetery lookout. That continuing if
intermittent presence of the Navy seemed enough to deter any
further attacks.
Lieutenant Ezekiel Thomas was sometimes the officer who
landed at the pier for the information. So far he had been
unable to arrange any lengthy shore leave--although he was
hard at work convincing his superiors of the need for him to
spend another week at Seaward! But he was warmly greeted
for the short stops ashore that he was able to make, and he
always left with a wistful expression.
In the three months or so since Port Royal had fallen to
Union forces, mail boats became even more sporadic. Those
seas were now a war zone, and every ship that the Navy could
intercept was stopped and questioned. Only once since
November had a letter arrived from Marcus. His unit had
encountered some heavier fighting and was moving into
Virginia just south of the capital. The tone remained
upbeat, but the Seaward family feared that it concealed much
hardship.
As December turned into January, the mood on Seaward was a
strange mixture of hope, fear, and hilarity. The three
babies were due to arrive at any moment. Friendly
speculation as to who the biological fathers might be was
constant, with Bundit, of course, taking a full share of
good natured ribbing since he was possibly the father of all
three. Of major concern was the ability to provide good
nursing and care, since the three expectant mothers, and
especially Portia, were good providers of maternity care on
the island. But never before had all three delivered near
the same time! Cass and Juno prepared carefully, and they
made it clear to Apple that she would need to begin learning
the craft of assisting at childbirth. It seemed not to
occur to anyone to train the men, or even ask their opinion.
When the new babies came, it seemed as if they came quickly,
although it took about a week all told for the three to be
born. One crisp night Appleby and the twins were giving
Samuel, Aaron, and Hammond some reading and mathematics
lessons before the fireplace in the library of the main
house--the Ashley men were making great strides in their
education, manners, and ways of speaking. Suddenly there
was a drumming of footsteps on the steps up to the verandah,
the banging of the outside door, and then Apple appeared in
the doorway. "Come!" she said, with hand upraised, to
summon the men. Appleby could not rise for a moment, so
shockingly strong was his sense of deja-vu. It was exactly
what her aunt Helen, at a little less than her age, had done
to announce Apple's own impending birth, now nearing
thirteen years ago. Appleby thought how the world certainly
turned in circles, pushed by blood and love. But then the
urgency of the moment took over and Appleby, with the rest
of his friends, rushed out of the house. But then they
stopped short on the lawn. "Who? Which one? Where?" asked
Pan and Bacchus alternately.
Turning around, Apple stamped her feet with impatience:
"It's Helen! Come quickly!"
Through the cold winter night the group went swiftly to
Helen's cabin, finding a crowd on the porch already. The
women were all inside attending to the birth, while the men
shuffled nervously on the porch, feeling the age-old
displacement of men that emerges from every room of
childbirth. Gasps and cries in Helen's voice could be heard
from time to time inside, and the men winced and inwardly
groaned, feeling the shared guilt of the male for an
inability to shoulder some of that pain.
Finding Bundit, Appleby put his arm around his shoulders and
hugged him tight. The two regarded each other, smiled and
nodded. It was a friendly paradox on the island that
although parenting was shared among all, and the sense of
family encompassed the entire island, still the knowledge of
biological ties created perhaps an extra bond between adult
and child. And Helen had named Appleby and Bundit as the
most likely choices to be the father of the new child. It
would be the friendliest of rivalries for the remaining
moments until the child was born.
Some minutes wore on with busy, focused women inside and
men, chatting nervously, on the outside. And then that
sound like no other, that announces the turning over of the
world and its generations one more time, pierced the air.
The sound of more frantic activity from inside the cabin
contrasted with the frozen tableau on the porch. The
unearthly crying of the new baby signaled robust
health....but Helen? Only a little while passed, but it
seemed like ages, and then Portia pushed her own pregnant
girth heavily through the door and announced, with a huge
grin, "It's a boy. Helen is well." Then nodding to Appleby
and Bundit, she said, "Come see!"
The two might never have made it through the door, so eager
to appear nonchalant were they, with so much repetition of
"After you" or "No, no, after you." Finally Portia simply
grasped Appleby's hand and pulled him into the cabin, with
Bundit hard on his heels.
The unmistakable smells of childbirth filled the air of the
cabin--not offensive, but a powerful totem of life and the
female power to bring forth that life. Helen lay against a
pillow, her dark skin shining lightly with perspiration.
Steaming pots of herbal mixtures brewed on the cast iron
stove. Portia and Athena rested heavily in chairs, grim
smiles the tokens of presentiments of their own coming
fates, while Cass and Juno bustled around, instructing young
Apple all the while in the ways of midwifery. On Helen's
breast suckled the new baby. As if approaching the Holy of
Holies in a temple, Appleby and Bundit crept forward.
Helen smiled at them and drew the cover back some. The baby
pulled away from her dark nipple and stared unfocused into
the new world. He had a light brown skin, thin lips, with
round, brown eyes and loose brown curls. Helen looked at
Appleby and said, "I think it's yours!"
Bundit nodded his agreement, clapped his hands and put an
affectionate hand on Appleby's shoulder, pushing him forward
to greet his child. Appleby could barely control his
feeling of gratitude. The world had borrowed his only other
son, but seemed to have given him this one in return. Tears
coursed down his cheeks as he put his hand on the curly head
in blessing, too moved to speak. Helen whispered, in the
silent space, "I wish Papa was here to see him."
Appleby looked sharply at her, and understood. All over
again, he felt the pain of Priam's loss. But what the world
takes it sometimes gives back. Marcus had gone away--oh, he
hoped not for long!--but had given him this new son. And
the world's war had taken away Priam, then brought this new
boychild into the world.....
"I think he is here to see him," said Appleby, softly. "I
think he is here. Let us name this new one Priam." Helen
nodded, smiling hugely, as everyone in the room whispered
and buzzed with approval, and the news of Appleby's
suggestion quickly made it to the porch, where muted sounds
of applause were heard. And so young Priam, namesake of his
departed heroic grandfather, was welcomed into the
community. Appleby bent down to kiss the infant once more,
then Helen. "Alright, now, give us room to work," muttered
Cass, and Juno gently grabbed an arm each of Appleby and
Bundit and steered them toward the door. With backward
glances they left the cabin and stepped onto the verandah,
where applause, back slaps, and hugs greeted both, but
Appleby most of all.
Eventually Apple came out onto the porch of the cabin and
drew herself up with as much authority as her nearly-
thirteen years could muster. "You are making too much
noise! Go home to your beds if you please!" she said, then
turned regally to go back into the cabin to resume her
duties. Their high spirits undeterred but their manners
subdued, the men bade each other good night and began moving
off into the night.
Wishing others well and accepting their good wishes, Appleby
was among the last to leave. Aaron and Samuel left with
him, Hammond having gone a little ahead to the Ashley men's
cabin. As they passed it, Aaron asked, "Master Mark, would
you like to come in for a celebration drink? We have a
bottle.... well, I guess it is your bottle after all, but
it's from the cellar."
"It is everyone's bottle, Aaron, and yes, I would be pleased
to come in and lift a glass," said Appleby. He did not
worry that Troy would wonder where he was. Although the two
had been sharing a room and bed for nearly two months now
(and would for the rest of their lives together), neither
one fretted over where the other was, or with whom.
With Aaron on one side and Samuel on the other, clapping his
back and wishing him congratulations, Appleby walked up the
steps of their porch and entered the cabin. Hammond turned,
his face revealing a pleased surprise at the sight of
Appleby with his friends. A bottle of brandy was produced
and glasses half-filled. Toasts were made, the health of
the mother and child proposed, and ribald jokes concerning
sexual prowess made at Appleby's expense. In fact, as the
merry hour wore on and the bottle emptied among the four of
them, the more explicit the fun seemed to become. Yet it
was not at all inappropriate among these four friends who
had shared so much and so many intimacies, sometimes not
under the happiest of circumstances.
Appleby, sitting next to Samuel, had been rubbing the
youth's neck affectionately for some minutes before fully
realizing what he was doing. His legs were stretched out,
feet on an ottoman that he shared with Hammond who sat
across from him, and their feet had been playfully pressing
into each other for a while as well. And Aaron, sitting on
the floor, was leaning against Appleby's thigh on one side
while he draped his arm over Samuel's thigh on the other.
These gentle caresses, begun without strategy or design, led
to the gradual dawning of desire. Samuel looked at Appleby,
who leaned over to kiss his parted lips. Aaron's hands slid
up Appleby's and Samuel's thighs to stroke and rub. Hammond
leaned forward to take Appleby's stockinged feet in his
hands, then removed the stockings and, shifting to his
knees, began to massage and kiss his feet.
All four began to be aware of a mounting passion, of a
sexual tension in the air. Caresses and rubbings became
more deliberate, kisses more passionate. Aaron stood up
and, turning to Appleby and Samuel, pulled his clothing off
quickly, standing naked before them, his rust-brown body
beautiful in the lamplight, the color a pool of desire to
sink into, the muscles inviting pillows on which to rest.
Samuel stood and Aaron, dropping to his knees, pulled down
his trousers and undergarments as Hammond began tugging on
Appleby's clothing as he sat. With soft moans of urgency
and whispers of delight, all four were soon naked in the
lamplight.
Aaron looked at the bed, which he usually shared with
Samuel. "Too small for four!" he whispered to himself! But
running to it, he brought back its pillows and a blanket
which he spread on the floor before the warm cast iron
stove. Turning back to his friends, he saw that Hammond and
Appleby were standing, pressed tightly together, their lips
locked in a passionate kiss while their hands cupped each
other's bottoms. Aaron tugged Appleby away and led him,
with Hammond following, to the blanket on the floor.
Appleby lay on his back and the three black men clustered
around him. It would be wrong to say that the people of
Seaward were color blind. They were very conscious of color
differences because that was such a source of joy to them.
Now it seemed especially so for Appleby, as he felt himself
washed over by waves of chocolate brown. Hard, squirming
bodies entangled with his tanned white skin, muscles moved
beneath fudge dark skin. When he had enjoyed Samuel's thin,
still-boyish body for a few moments he turned to embrace
Hammond's large, muscular bulk. When he tired of rubbing
the tiny, crisp snakes of hair on Hammond's head he ran his
fingers through the dense, straight mop of hair on Aaron's
head, and then through the dense, nappy tufts on Samuel's
scalp. Appleby pulled down hard on a prominent, rounded, up-
turning African bottom, pulling a black body down into his
own groin, and then he lifted his head to suck the dangling,
full, purple black ballsack that swung just above his face
while with his fingers he kneaded the bubble butt above it,
spreading the cheeks to reveal a densely black, wrinkled
asshole.
The three Ashley men likewise delighted in Appleby's tanned
white skin, long light brown hair, and muscular body. All
three had been shown kindness for many years by this white
man, so in contrast to the disrespect given them by Robert
Ashley, so they delighted in this different, white body for
which they could express real love. Long, thick, brown and
purple black penises slid up and down the sides of Appleby's
hips while another rampant reddish brown dickhead oozed
precum onto his belly.
The intensity of kissing, grasping, pumping increased, and
then a pot of lubricant was brought from a nearby table.
Remaining on his back, Appleby raised and spread his knees
in invitation. All three black men began greasing their
rampant dicks while Samuel also loosened Appleby's anus with
slick fingers. The smallest of the three men, Samuel
positioned himself between Appleby's legs, placed his
cockhead in position, and pushed. It entered easily.
Remaining in a squat on his haunches, Samuel had a good view
of his slick, black cock sliding in and out of Appleby's
white bottom, and of the muscular plain of the white man's
belly and chest. Appleby propped his feet on Samuel's hips
as he enjoyed the view of the thin black youth's chest and
abdomen flexing and working rhythmically beneath dark skin
as he fucked his butt.
Samuel threw back his head and moaned, calling out "Master
Mark! Master Mark!" as he pushed his groin forward, holding
it there while he shot spurts of semen into the white man's
rectum. He held that position quivering and gasping, and
then pulled out with a plop and crawled around to lie
shuddering and panting beside the white man, nuzzling at his
neck and shoulder.
Aaron was next. There was little need for preliminaries, as
his rampant dick and Appleby's open anus were both ready.
Sliding inside in one push, Aaron stretched his legs back
straight as Appleby's legs closed over his back. Aaron held
himself up off of Appleby's torso with palms flat on the bed
on either side of the white man's chest. Now began a quick,
rhythmic motion of Aaron's hips, while his breathing through
parted lips increased. He and Appleby locked eyes. The
white man rubbed his palms over the copper-hued brown of
Aaron's chest, thumbing his nipples, tweaking and pinching
them. But their eyes remained locked. Especially when
Aaron whispered urgently, "I'm coming," and then pushed his
groin forward three and then four times as he bucked and
humped, squirting semen into Appleby's secret place. But
their gaze never wavered as each looked deeply into each
other, seeming to see a deeper place of connection in each
other's eyes. Spent, Aaron collapsed forward and down and
lay there with his cheek on Appleby's chest, gathering
breath. He rolled off to the side away from Samuel as
Hammond got into position.
The large black man's penis was so large that Appleby winced
as it entered him, despite the preparations he had received.
Hammond also stretched his legs out, but lowered his torso
flat onto Appleby's. The white man's pelvis was cocked up
to accommodate this position, and the black man's penis
began pumping in and out of Appleby's rectum, which was
leaking semen with every stroke. Now Appleby really reveled
in the sweet, silky depths of black skin, surrounded as he
was on all sides and impaled from within by fudge brown.
Hammond whispered Appleby's name over and over as he bit the
white man's pink nipples, licked his chest, nibbled his neck
and ear. Appleby's own rampant cock, fueled by the
stimulation his prostate was receiving, lay straight up
between his and Hammond's belly, and the large black man's
rhythmic pumping stimulated the reddish white organ as well.
Appleby tightened his legs' grasp of Hammond's back even as
he pulled the large, muscular black bulk down into him, and
then his own orgasm came in waves, his penis shooting out
great gouts of semen in the close, warm space between their
bodies. The tightening of his anus that came with the
orgasm likewise pushed Hammond over the edge, and with a
roar he tensed, curling his torso downward into the white
man, the two locked together in a vast spasm of ecstasy.
Finished, he lay there exhausted, panting, as his still-
swollen dick plopped out of the white man's anus. Little
streams of semen ran down Appleby's sides and from his
gaping bottom.
Long minutes of fondling and expressions of love passed as
the men recovered themselves. Appleby marveled again at the
pool of deep brown into which he had fallen, the close
surround of hard muscle under smooth skin. Even Hammond's
bulk felt like a warm chocolate blanket atop Appleby.
Utterly at peace, wrapped in sensual pleasure, Appleby fell
asleep like that, joined by his companions, and that is
where the morning sun found them the next day.
Three days later Appleby and Troy lay entwined together,
sleeping soundly in the dark night, when they felt a hand
shoving and slapping them. Apple again. "It's Portia!" she
said, then darted across the hall to rouse the rest of the
men. Hector and Bundit were the likely candidates to be the
father of Portia's child, so they exhibited a little more
nervousness than the others, or at least as much nervousness
as can be mustered at three in the morning. "Why can't
these women deliver right after lunch?" grumbled Cassius,
yet nobody really objected to be included in the impending
birth in that way. Yawning and stumbling, some detouring to
the outhouse, the men joined the group on Portia's porch.
A similar scene was played out, repeating the events of the
birth of little Priam three days before. Portia's cries
could be heard every now and then, and the men stamped and
huddled in the cool January night. Again there were jests
and speculations directed at Hector and Bundit, with perhaps
a little more good-natured ribbing for Bundit since it was
clear he had not fathered baby Priam.
Once again the wail of a newborn pierced the night air,
shocking the men into silence and anticipation. Sounds of
frantic activity in the cabin. Slow minutes walked
by.....mysterious sounds inside....the welcome sound of
Portia's voice......the mewling of the baby. Then Athena's
pregnant bulk filled the doorway. Smiling broadly she said,
"A boy, again! All are well," and motioned Hector and
Bundit to come forward. They needed no coaxing, but this
time came willingly while the rest of the men jammed the
doorway high and low, craning their heads around to see the
sight.
Portia looked radiant, her light brown skin paler than usual
but Cass and Juno assured everyone that she would do well.
The child sucked hungrily at her breast. Pulling him away
gently, Portia pulled his blanket partially away. He was a
medium brown, with a few tightly curled hairs on his scalp
and full lips. "Yours," she said, smiling at Hector, on
whose dark chocolate face a reddish flush spread. Once
again Bundit applauded mother and father both, the graceful
"loser" for a second time in a row. Hector, smiling hugely
but with his head ducking down shyly, approached the bed,
gingerly picking the child up in his arms, lost in the
miracle he was holding. Then glancing at Portia, he asked,
"What shall we call him?"
Portia looked thoughtfully at everyone, then at Hector. "I
have been thinking," she whispered. "I think, to remind
us.... to be a witness..... we should name him Free."
Hector looked surprised for a moment, then nodded an
agreement and smiled down at baby Free. Again the room
buzzed with approval and excited discussion, which spread to
the group on the porch. Once again the men were shooed
away, news of the birth was carried to Helen in her cabin,
and Seaward moved forward into the next day and the next,
one life richer.
When Apple burst through the door from the verandah at ten
in the morning three days later, the men in the house never
thought she was bringing news of Athena's delivery. It was
such a civilized hour to give birth! But Apple was doing
just that, and was going around to the dwellings and
buildings of the island summoning people from their work.
Now the two men who might be the new father--Cassius and,
yet again, Bundit--came in for some joshing, but Bundit most
of all, as the men stood in the bright winter sunlight of
the porch and lawn in front of Athena's cabin. The smaller
children, awake for once at a birth, peered in through the
windows to see what could be seen. The old familiar sounds
of struggle, trial, and hope could be heard clearly from
within.
Again, the unearthly wail of a newborn baby was heard, and
all the milling around stopped as everyone focused on the
sound. More minutes passed and then Apple appeared at the
door. All the men who were scattered on the lawn and porch
closed in for the news, Cassius and Bundit first among them.
Enjoying the moment of command, Apple neutrally surveyed the
group left and right. Then she broke into a dazzling grin
and cried, "It's a girl, at last! Mama is doing well! Papa
Cassius, Papa Bundit....come."
The two expectant men entered the house while the rest of
the men peered through the windows above the crouching
children or filled the doorway. The events of the week
repeated themselves. The two men, named as candidates for
fatherhood of the latest arrival, approached the bed. A
weary and perspiring Athena pulled the baby away from her
breast to show it to the men. The tiny one had a thick
shock of straight black hair, light golden brown skin, and
little almond eyes that opened and closed in the
unaccustomed light. Athena spoke one word: "Bundit!" The
whole gathering, inside and out, erupted in joy and
laughter, none more than Cassius who was sympathizing with
poor Bundit's good-natured torment at the hands of the other
people of Seaward. Bundit picked up the baby, nodding and
smiling, and held her close.
"What do you think for a name?" asked Athena, softly.
Bundit looked at the baby, then his eyes seemed to look out
a great distance, through and beyond the walls of the cabin.
Then back to the child: "I think it cost me a lot to learn
what kind of a place Seaward is. Just as we named the last
child Free to remind us, let us name this one Haven as a
reminder as well." And the people all approved.
It was just two weeks later that the alarm bells on the
cemetery hill and at the pier rang, as a large warship
appeared on the horizon, sailing for Seaward. It dropped
anchor off the island and a longboat rowed in to the pier.
Lieutenant Ezekiel Thomas stepped onto the pier, a canvas
bag slung over his shoulder. To everyone's pleased
surprise, the longboat then pushed off to return to the ship
without him.
Pumping hands left and right, giving and receiving hugs, the
youth explained that he had been granted one day ashore on
Seaward. Then he added that he was shortly to be reassigned
to naval operations nearer the national capital, in
Chesapeake Bay and on the Potomac River. Happiness at
Thomas's arrival became seasoned with the knowledge that he
would be gone afterwards, and who knew for how long?
The group trooped back up toward the main house, welcoming
Thomas for the short stay and enjoying their time with him.
It was a strange experience for him: he felt as if he had
come home, but it was a home that he would leave the next
day. Hammond, Aaron, and Samuel asked shyly, deferentially,
if he wished to spend the night in their cabin. He accepted
with delight, the thought of an evening of sensual pleasure
now opening up before him.
But first--by luck, Thomas had arrived on the day when the
community intended to have the ceremony that Appleby first
witnessed in regards to the baby Apple, the ritual to name a
child. There was to be a feast first, and then a
celebration around a bonfire at the cemetery. Thomas
eagerly joined in the preparations, helping to set up tables
in the hay barn and to bring in food and drinks.
It was a joyful celebration, the new babies wrapped tightly
against the cool air but passed from arm to arm. Thomas
seemed not to know what to do with each one as he or she was
handed to him, but warmly felt a sense of inclusion in the
community. Affectionate hugs and shoulder rubs, especially
from Aaron, Hammond, and Samuel, put him a good mood of
anticipation of what was to come in their cabin that
evening. Toasts were made, the health of the mothers and
babies proposed, the wisdom of their names celebrated.
During the conversation, Thomas made a remark that drew the
attention of all and, for a moment, brought chattering to a
halt. "Appleby, Portia," he said, "I intend to try to find
Marcus. I will be where we think he is stationed. I can
make it part of my business, official and personal, to
inquire as to his regiment, where it is located, and then to
find him. Should I convey any message to him from you?"
All hearts were full. What could be conveyed in mere words,
in letters? That which the people of Seaward would say to
Marcus, or would say to Priam if they could, could not be
expressed in a letter or a speech. Nevertheless, everyone
had a contribution, a good wish, an expression of love.
Thomas was obliged to borrow paper and pen to write it all
down. Appleby and Portia said that they would write their
own letter in the morning and give it to Thomas. A great
sense of anticipation grew with the expectation that the
lieutenant might make contact with Marcus, and perhaps even
persuade him to return.
The feast was concluded and everything cleared away. By
then the night was dark, although clear and cold, and a full
moon shone above. Taking lamps, the group trooped to the
cemetery hilltop as it had so many times before. The ritual
was repeated to the children as they went, each child
learning again a sense of the special welcome each one had
received to the world and to Seaward. A bonfire was burning
brightly, warming the winter air, as they reached the
cemetery.
Each child was lifted up--this time by Appleby, most
reluctantly from a sense of undeserving, but he was the
oldest male now. He insisted that Cass and Juno, as the
true elders of the community, help him, though, and he let
them do the honors alone as baby Priam was named and
dedicated. The two old women performed perfectly, but Cass
could hardly speak as she named her grandson for her dear,
departed husband and life's mate. Appleby remembered
Apple's naming ceremony and the sweet intimacy he and Priam
had enjoyed alone afterwards, once everyone else had left.
Was it his imagination, or was the spirit of Priam there
with the rest of them, nodding his approval?
Stories of the past were rehearsed. Appleby told what he
knew of his Aunt Lucy, with other members of the group who
remembered her filling in details. Cass and Juno both
seemed to know of Lucy's old intimacy with Priam, but it
seemed not to have bothered them then and did not bother
them now. Other stories of the new children's ancestors
were told, with the older children learning anew and
remembering. Bundit brought strange tales from far away
Siam, the heritage of Wat and now of little Haven.
As the evening grew late, the people left in groups to
return to the dwellings of Seaward lower down. Appleby had
volunteered to take the watch that night, and so he
remained, although with Thomas's warship cruising the waters
near Seaward nobody felt any kind of threat that night.
Appleby made it out with his spyglass, prowling the waters
around Charleston Harbor. He also made out one or two fast
ships slipping out of the harbor, but of course there was no
way for him to alert the man o' war of the blockade runners.
And so Appleby sat, watchful and thoughtful, with
anticipation of what the new year would bring and whether it
would bring Marcus home.